


The Stages of Hugging

by AlamoGirl80



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-12
Updated: 2011-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlamoGirl80/pseuds/AlamoGirl80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is used to doing without.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stages of Hugging

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Hug Fest comment fic at **delicatale** 's LiveJournal. And because Danny's hugs are a study in healing, I think. Thanks as always to **caliecat** for looking over this for me.

Steve’s been allowed precious few hugs in the last year. In the last ten years, maybe.  Being sent away by his father to military school, where, let’s face it, hugging isn’t exactly smiled upon, Steve’s learned to deal with it. It’s like a callus that’s formed over his heart, scabby and parched from doing without. He’s really good at doing without. 

Then he meets Danny and it’s like a sensory overload, his circuits are fried because he just doesn’t know what to do with it.

Danny’s always touching: patting his arms, touching his shoulders, grabbing a wrist. And Steve finds him self greedily seeking out that touch, drinking it up like a flower in the dessert drinks the morning dew, and then, oh he’s so screwed.

Because now…now he can’t get enough.

Steve’s never been good with showing these sticky emotions and despite having unfailing certainty in his abilities, he fears rejection when it matters most. Especially with Danny. 

The hugs start out awkward – one might not even call them hugs. Steve starts slinging an arm over Danny’s shoulder, pulling him in against his side as they leave the office for the night to a bar, joking about whatever heart attack Danny feels Steve has thrust upon him. He squeezes Danny’s shoulder, feeling the muscle there bunch under his hand and hopes that Danny won’t mind if he leaves his arm around him until they get to the car.

Wonders if Danny would let him keep his arms around him forever.

And fuck, it’s just that kind of thinking that makes Steve’s heart strain within the confines of that protective shield around it when Danny is the one who offers the first real hug. It’s a quick thing, almost a tackle, because Steve has gone beyond what Danny feels is humanly possible during a case and survived, and there are a lot of _fuck, you,_ _McGarrett_ ’s and _I hate you, gonna kill yous_  being mumbled into his shirt at the moment, but hell if he cares. 

Danny’s beefy arms are locked around his neck and shoulders, pulling his head down and stealing his breath away. Steve doesn’t have enough time to enjoy these, as he calls them ‘thank God you’re alive because I’m gonna kill you later’ hugs from his partner, because Danny has to let go in order to keep his hands in the _punctuation blades_ that slice through the air with every syllable. 

Steve doesn’t get the next stage of hugging until Danny nearly dies. In the office, Steve waits for his turn as Danny doles out the hugs to the rest of the team, his chest tight with the knot of worry he’s been carrying since this whole shitfest began and then there’s Danny. Right in front of him. Within arms reach. 

Steve can’t even bring himself to care that Danny’s artfully dodged his question about Rachel because Danny’s waving him in, guiding Steve’s heart in for a landing within his arms, and damn. He could stay like this forever.

Steve closes his eyes, breaths in, lets his walls fall away and to hell with what the rest of his team thinks. These Danny-hugs…they’ve got healing properties, no fucking doubt.

When the world crashes back in on him thanks to Sang Min – he’s going to shoot that fucker one day, just for spite – Steve thinks, that’s it. He’s ruined on Danny.

There’s no going back now. Danny’s arms, Danny’s chest against him, Danny’s scent in his nose and mind and Danny’s body beneath his hands, warm and solid and real. Steve’s hooked so hard his head spins.

He’s got to have more; he just doesn’t know how to ask.

Steve’s just about given up hope that he’ll find out what the last form of hugging entails. Well, he knows what it is, he’s allowed Cath to snuggle up against his chest a few times after they’re sweaty and sated. But that hasn’t happened in a very long time because… because Steve is completely ruined on one person’s hugs only. He figures he better get over it though, because from the look of Rachel wrapped up in Danny’s arms in the hospital...

Steve’s heart aches and he has to drink all his beer in one go, as if trying to drown the sting will help.

He’d made a pass at Danny today. A full-on offer to take Danny home, feed him dinner and then “y’know, see what happens” because this dance they’ve been doing for so fucking long has to lead somewhere, doesn’t it?

But then, Danny pauses, looks at Steve in confusion and Steve’s crab-walking so fucking fast he can’t even get all the words out. He was wrong, _holy shit_ he was _wrong_.

Danny doesn’t want him, he wants Rachel. Through mumbled apologies, Steve says, “forget it,” goes in his office, shuts the doors, lowers the blinds and stays there until he’s sure everyone is gone.

Then, Danny – his Danny – is there, standing inside his front door at his house, hands in his pockets and it’s been a really shitty day, so the tie is gone and Steve just fucking stares at the hollow of Danny’s throat like a starving man.

Danny raises a hand, starts to say something, but stops. Runs the hand over his face and heaves a weary sigh before ambling forward. Steve is rigid, terrified and yet inexplicably drawn to whatever Danny does next, kiss him, punch him, take his gun and shoot Steve in the fucking knee, Steve doesn’t care. 

As long as he doesn’t leave, Steve will do anything, be anything. _Anything_. Just, _please stay_...

Steve sucks in a gasp when Danny walks into him, bodily, roughly, slamming his arms around Steve’s body like a vice. Danny’s face, his mouth is against Steve’s neck and he’s whispering things about how stupid Steve is, and really, “how clueless can you be, you dork.”

And Steve is grabbing, clutching, clawing at Danny like this man is the only life preserver he has in a storm tossed sea, and Danny lets him.

Later – while clothes lay strewn about the living room and the couch cushions are in such disarray Steve may actually have to replace them – and the two of them are drenched in sweat and bliss, Danny nudges Steve onto his back. Their naked skin slips against each other with ease, legs tangled together, and Danny places a gentle kiss on Steve’s abused lips.

Then his head comes to rest against Steve’s chest, his arms snake firmly but comfortably around his waist and Danny just _holds_ before stilling in drowsy contentment.

Steve will hold on for the rest of his days.

 

 


End file.
